My peregrination toward a healthier, more balanced life. With lots of complaining along the way.

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As explained below, I put in an application and was approved and completely smitten with a beautiful little chihuahua. I cannot stop thinking about her. Looked at her picture every day.

Talked again with my husband yesterday and he refused. And of course, with him, he can’t just refuse, he has to continue to throw insults my way.

I’m terrible at taking care of things. I’m irresponsible. I’m trying to ‘replace my son’. I don’t pay attention. I don’t pick up after them, feed, them, groom them or see after their medical care. He “KNOWS MORE THAN ME.”

None of this is remotely true. Did I let them poop in the yard sometimes when it was super cold or rainy? Sure, I’ll own that. That’s it.

I actually started laughing at the last one because he was dead serious. This is the shit. That’s what I say when I start having thoughts of getting the FO. This is the shit. This is the shit that makes me lose all respect for you. This is the shit that makes me realize you are irrational and mean. This is the shit that I will not stand for.

I’m the kind of sad
that hurts. I’m sick. I am having so much trouble interacting here at work and
smiling. I’ve got years of experiencing though so I’ll make it work. I’m sad
about the dog. I’m not sad about that fool or anything he said. I’m sad that I’m
back in this place. I’m sad that this man feels he can reign superior over me
even after all of these years. I explained to him that this cannot be a case of
“let” and he said it is. He added “if you bring that dog home,
it will disappear.” So I get threats too. Healthy, right?

He keeps saying we
can get a dog when we move. Now, this sounds perfectly reasonable and
acceptable, I know. I would agree if we haven’t been looking at houses for 5
FUCKING YEARS and as soon as I find one I like, he finds something wrong with
it or drags his feet on seeing it. I began to suspect that looking at houses
was simply something he enjoyed doing and he more or less agreed. This is what
he does. He walks up to the decision line and stalls. I feel like I’ve
sacrificed so much to “compromise” with him.

Moving. Being able
to be a full time musician. Having another kid. This is big fucking stuff. Not
to mention being the butt of jokes and teasing regularly, rarely hearing a
compliment, and never having a date anywhere because that stuff is just not in
his personality. And I should just accept it and stop bringing it up.

I’ve been drowning
my sorrows in art supplies and storing older ones that I don’t use as much in
the basement for when I open my business. It will be good to have supplies on
hand for folks who do not have their own. Art supplies are a fully acceptable addiction
in my mind. I’ve been retreating to the art table a lot lately. This time of
year always draws me to it.

I’m going to go back
to my therapist I think. I’m going to get my fucking life together. I envision
my own home whether we stay together or now. I know it sounds insane but I feel
like our marriage might work better if we lived in different homes.

There’s a good chance I’ll delete this. I just need to work through some feelings for a minute.

I was approved for adoption of this beautiful little dog who sounds like a perfect fit for my family. My husband turned around and outright refuses to get on board. He essentially said that I’m “not allowed”. He is bossy and controlling and I’m generally able to just roll my eyes and do what I need to do. But then he makes threats. He said he would return the dog to make sure I wasn’t able to adopt from them again.

He also said I’m getting a dog to “replace (my) son again.” And that I barely pay attention to our son. All of this is completely insane and just really mean and hurtful shit. I can’t even look at him.

When he gets like this I immediately go straight to thinking about divorce. It’s happened before when he has gotten outlandish like this. I moved out for 3 months several years ago. I had an attorney on standby 2 years ago. And now this. Yes, I do see the pattern. I’m fully aware that this relationship has really bipolar cycles.

In addition to this, I pay our mortgage, phones, utilities, and insurances. He does grocery shopping and while it’s a lot, it doesn’t come close. I work a full time and a part time job (music). He works when he gets work. Generally part time. Sometimes, no time. I’ve seen him try a few careers and quit them. I’ve been steadily employed promoted throughout our relationship.

Now… he does stay home with our son a lot. He picks him up from camp or school, brings him to his after school stuff. And that is a big thing. Despite being home most of the time, he rarely cleans the house and then kind of sideeyes me about it. Like it’s my responsibility.

I work on nights sometimes and I typically have one night out with friends a week. He does not enjoy socializing. I’ve tried to encourage him to socialize and he does not do it. He does however throw back in my face that I’m out too much. Drinking too much. The drinking part is not off base. I need to reel that in. But I’m still going to socialize.

He knows what hurts me. Criticizing me as a mother mainly. Criticizing my really base values. Making sure I know not to get too confident or proud. Meanwhile, I literally subsidize his life and he is trying to exert control over me. I get it. It is a way for him to feel more powerful maybe. But I am caught smack in the middle of enraged and deeply wounded.

I’m tired. No reason. I had one “spiked seltzer” last night and went to bed at a reasonable time. I slept well, got up at 8 to help W get ready for camp. And then… then… I fell back asleep. Why? I don’t really know. I could’ve made a cup of tea.

I had a dream about the two dogs last night. It was the same as my past Mdog dreams. He visits but is constantly running away. I usually get a few snuggles though so it’s worth it. In this dream, Mdog was barking at the door and we could hear Pup barking. I was looking all over until I realized the barking was coming from inside my husband’s car. I got into the car and found Pup passing out in the hot car. But I saved him. I saved him. I screamed at my husband. I brought Pup inside and then he just kept running away. I mean… this all makes sense. We tried a bunch of stuff and we were going to lose him anyway.

This sounds like a sad dream but I was smiling when I woke up from seeing them. Seeing them playing together like old times. Also, yesterday I began browsing Petfinder and local rescues. So that was likely a catalyst for the dream. I think they were saying, “We’re together. It’s ok.”

I had a bagel for lunch today and yesterday. Bagels are my gateway food into the spiral of bad eating habits. They seem innocuous to most, but I have to have the with a bag of chips. Then I want to take a nap an hour later. Then I want cookies. Shame spiral. Repeat.

I was intent on going back on my 21DSD plan because it is sustainable for me. I have o stock up on more salad stuff. This is getting boring. Bye.

Its been a while, huh. I made it through my 21 day sugar detox. I ate some M&Ms this week after I finished. What goes up…

The main reason I’m writing though is because we lost Pup today.

Up until yesterday, he had been doing well. He’d still bark at anything with a face crossing in front of our property. He’d still launch himself at the door whenever the doorbell rang. He was still eating, drinking, pooping, and chasing the cat but maybe with a little less of a spring in his step.

The veterinary oncologist (a profession I was unaware of until a few months ago) told me that this is likely how it would happen. He’d be pretty good until he wasn’t – and that would be a pretty quick and steep drop. As trite as it sounds, I’m just relieved that he didn’t suffer. His decline happened literally overnight.

We’d noticed he was favoring one of his hind legs over the past couple of days but at 15, he’s been a little stiff for a while. Last night at 2am, he was restless. He was whining and it seemed like he couldn’t get comfortable. This morning, he was dragging his hind legs. He’d get them up for a moment, but was wobbly and uncoordinated. He couldn’t make it more than a few feet without laying down. I called the vet who agreed that it was probably time.

On the way to the vet, I tried to soak in every detail of him. The tiny, delicate wisps on his snout, the occasional white hair peppered on his head, his bendy paws, the thick scruff around his neck, his cloudy, soul swallowing eyes, his tumor area – roiling with heat and density. I went through every tissue and napkin in my husband’s glove box.

I like our vet’s office. We were greeted with solemnity and felt supported by the staff. We had brought his pillow for him to lay on. When it was time for the first injection, I crouched down right by his little face. He can’t see well, so I wanted to make sure he could smell me, hear me, feel my presence. I stroked his head. I thanked him and told him I love him. I repeated this through the second injection and could clearly see when he left. I cannot explain it. I nodded and then the doctor checked and nodded. It was a powerful moment that I will never forget. As painful as it was, I felt honored to give comfort and bear witness. He was so important to me. He will always be a part of my story. I’ll go into it sometime, but he saved me as much as I saved him.

In the mean time, I am exhausted at a soul level. I barely have energy to type this. But I wanted to document this.